


The Gunslinger Job

by deprough



Series: The Mandalorian's Jobs [5]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Strangers to Family, Twi'leks (Star Wars), canon compliant through ep4, it's going to get dark, sorry everyone this was the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough/pseuds/deprough
Summary: After landing on Tatooine to make repairs, Defender leaves the ship to work a job. Parjii stays behind where it's safe, only to learn that even the safety of the Razor Crest isn't enough to protect her or those she loves.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Mandalorian's Jobs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588885
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY MANDO S2 DAY! Have a new fanfiction starting.
> 
> I'm nervous about this one. If you follow me on Tumblr, you know that it's because this story is from Parjii's point of view. I didn't reveal it's because of how dark this story gets. Please mind the trigger warnings for each chapter. Also, this story changes a lot of dynamics between the three main people in the Job series, and I'm nervous how that'll be recieved. 
> 
> tw: discussion of slavery, abuse as a slave, and being enslaved.

Parjii loved the coat. Defender hadn’t given it to her, but he’d said she could wear it whenever she felt cold. So sometimes, even when the ship’s temperature remained comfortable, she would slip the heavy weight over her. The silken lining caressed her skin, and she bared her arms when she wore it just to feel the soft glide. It settled over her shoulders like a living thing and wrapped around her like wings, and she felt as if a giant leaned against her back and hugged her close. 

She knew she looked nice in it; the white fur framed her face like wispy summer clouds around the blue sky, and the softly woven cream brought out her eyes. Looking at herself in it brought back memories of other costly and beautiful outfits that adorned her. She tried to avoid reflections when she snuggled into its warmth. 

Parjii pulled it closed once more, running her hand down the fur edging in an orgy of touch. Her simple enjoyment of her moment was disrupted by the  _ Crest _ shaking violently. She threw out her arms and kept her feet. From the cockpit, she heard Defender shout, “Parjii, get in a crash chair!”

_ Crash! _ They weren’t near a planet to crash on and she called, “Thakhid! He with you?”

“He’s fine!” 

Trusting that the armored man was right, she stripped off the coat and dropped it on her cot. She hurried to one of the chairs built into the bulkhead; Defender had made her buckle herself in many times, so she easily flipped the latch to unfold the seat. Her hands shook as she sat, shoved her arms through the straps, and snapped the buckle shut over her chest. Before she could pull the restraint tight, she was thrown against them as the  _ Crest _ bucked again.

When she slammed back into the bulkhead, she couldn’t stop the yelp of pain. A quick, practiced pull adjusted the four-point harness to her, and then all she could do was wait as the Crest shook. With one final, hard lurch, she heard the  _ Crest’s _ weapons fire and then it was quiet. 

“Parjii, you okay?” Defender yelled from above.

“Yes, I’m fine!” she shouted, realized she’d lapsed into Twileki again, and switched to Basic. “Fine! You and beebee?”

“We’re okay.” He lapsed into soft mutters as he assessed the damage; by the time he was done, she had gotten her shaking hands to unbuckle and managed to join him. A plethora of red warning lights lit up the  _ Crest’s  _ panels, and Parjii sank into the seat behind him. Her lekku spoke of her alarm, but she didn’t distract him with words.

Worried, she watched him sit back heavily. “We need to set down.” He glanced back at her. “Tatoonie is the closest planet, but it’s a slave planet, and run by Hutts.”

Parjii parsed through the Basic and nodded. “We stay aboard.”

“That’s the idea.” His helmet turned to Thakhid. “Can you get him to sleep? He’s keyed up but needs it.”

“Yes,” she told him with a smile, scooping up Defender’s son. The green-skinned child grinned at her, eyes sparkling, and in Twileki, she said, “You don’t look the least bit tired. Hmm? You aren’t even the slightest bit tired. I bet Daddy could get you to sleep faster than I can.” 

She carried him to the cargo bay, rocking him in her arms as she kept her pace to a slow, rolling gait. “You always just fall asleep for him, but you fight me.” Thakhid pushed against her arms, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make his desire to be put down clear. “No, no. Would you like a song? Would that help?” she whispered and he babbled and grabbed energetically at her lekku. With them, she told him it was time to sleep, even as she said aloud, “I think you need one, loved one.” 

It took six songs to set his eyelids to drooping, and another ten before his breathing evened out into sleep. Parjii savored the time, enjoying the trust in his small body as he subsumed to slumber. As always, memories of another pressed on her, but she pushed them away. Thakhid did fill a chasm of grief in her heart, with his quiet smiles and big dark eyes, but he was his own person, not a replacement.

She laid him down reluctantly, hating the moment she let him go, wondering if she should take another second holding him close. Wondering if there would be another time he fell asleep in her arms, so small and trusting, or if this was the last time.

Sometimes, caring for him hurt as much as it healed. 

Back in the cockpit, Defender remained focused on flying the ship. He said something to her, saw she didn’t understand and sighed. Patiently, he tried other words, “The  _ Crest _ has taken a lot of damage.”

“We, eh, danger?”

“Not immediate, but I’m going to need to fly her in the rest of the way manually. Can you make me a hot cup of caf?”

“ _ Ka _ ,” she told him, pleased to be able to help. If he’d let her help more, she wouldn’t have to worry about him leaving her behind someday. 

The next several hours, Defender flew the ship without computer aid, and Parjii did what she could to help him. She got him cups of caf upon request and then left to give him time to drink. Sometimes, she let him talk at her while he went over the ship’s systems. The Basic was above her understanding of the language, but it helped him, so she listened and nodded. 

Then he asked her to fly the ship.

“What?” she squawked. 

“I have to hit the head. I’ll be five minutes, max,” he grunted. “All you have to do is sit here, hold the stick, and keep this heading.”

“I no know how to fly!” Her voice cracked on the last word. What if she hurt the  _ Crest _ ? What if she caused them to die? 

“You’re not flying,” he insisted. “You’re steering. If there’s a problem, I’ll be right back here.”

If she said no, he’d deal. He always took whatever adversity came and worked through it. He rarely asked for her help, only turning to her when he needed it. “Okee,” she whispered. 

He stood and she slid into the pilot’s seat --Defender’s seat -- swallowing hard. “Take the stick,” he commanded, and Parjii wrapped her hands around it. “You’ve started to drift.” Defender leaned past her and touched a screen with a dropping number. “Angle the stick to the right slightly, until the numbers are back to 2036.001.” 

Parjii felt her dread ease as she did as instructed and the ship didn’t blow up. The numbers on the screen rose until they were back where they should be. After a moment of micro-corrections, her instructor nodded. “Good,” Defender told her, resting a hand briefly on her shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

Silence fell over the cockpit; the soft sounds of the ship mingled gently with the sounds of her own life. The darkness of space with its jewels of light brought serenity and comfort, a sense of safety via distance. They were alone, three little sparks of life in a metal container, but she didn’t feel frightened. She felt protected by their isolation; all the evils of the galaxy were far away, and only good existed here.

She kept the numbers steady, confidence building steadily. She felt almost sad when she heard Defender return. “Thank you,” he said, resuming his seat the second she slipped out of it. As she took the chair behind his and pulled her knees up to rest her chin on, he reviewed the displays. “Good job,” he said, bringing warmth to her face.

Parjii could admit that she craved his praise. Every encouragement felt like it was that much longer before he jettisoned her. Those affirming words came so rarely, ench one felt like a rare treasure.

After a couple of hours, he pulled himself upright sharply.  _ He’s tired, _ Parjii thought sympathetically as her lekku said  _ care _ . She’d taken a nap earlier today with Thakhid, but he’d been awake for most of the cycle. 

His voice broke the silence. “Why haven’t you asked me to take you to Ryloth?”

Her sigh rang loud in the pause after his sentence. She didn’t know if she had the words in Basic, but she tried. “No want go there.”

“No family?” he pressed, hitting one area her vocabulary would certainly fail her. She knew he wouldn’t notice that her tail heads were communicating that she was uncomfortable with the topic.

“Family made slave. For credits.” Her lekku spoke  _ sadness _ and  _ past _ .

His gloves creaked as he tightened his fists. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to go back, if they betrayed you like that.”

“No, not that.” Parjii sighed again, picking at the stitching on the edge of her skirt and trying to remember not to talk at him in tail-sign. “It after war. After Seperatists. We starve.” When she strained, she could remember those horrible days, the biting pain of hunger and headaches, and the endless hopelessness. It wasn’t anger at them that kept her away; she didn’t really remember much about her parents or siblings. It seemed like a life someone else had lived. Pushing away old memories, she added, “So  _ Kora _ listen when human come and say she give credit if I go with her. I get food, he get credits for family to eat. It good thing for all, he believe.”

“ _ Kora’s _ your father’s name?” he asked.

“ _ Kora _ mean ‘father’,” Parjii chuckled. “What father in Mand-- Man-- your language?”

“Mando’a. It’s  _ buir _ .” Another long pause, and then he inquired, “Was that woman your owner? The one you ran from?”

_ He’s fighting sleep, _ Parjii realized, and that allowed her to speak more freely than she would have ordinarily. And this was Defender; he would be one of the few she didn’t mind knowing this. As her lekku tried to tell him that she was happy to confide in him, she said, “No, Mistress Marbella run… school. She take there. I learn dance, how to serve owners.” She’d loved Mistress Marbella at first; the woman had given her dresses and food, and a beautiful place to live. 

She swallowed and added, “There learn was slave.” The noble children at the school had quickly made it clear that she was there to learn to serve under them. Worse, the teachers had pitted slave against noble in the few combined classes they had, the further to separate them. She could still remember the plain gray dresses the slaves had been required to wear, but couldn’t remember the any of the other children. It was odd how much she’d hated her worst tormentor so much once but now couldn’t remember the girl’s name.

“A school, but they didn’t teach you Basic?” he asked, his voice curious.

“Yes, learn Huttese, other languages. Not much more.” When the other children had been in class learning math, history, and politics, she’d been cleaning their clothing and rooms, learning to prepare food or drink, and anything else to help them care for nobles at the standards they demanded. 

“So who’d you run away from?” 

“Duke Aldar Znyth.” Just speaking his name brought back memories: hours of dancing with a stiff smile, sitting and looking beautiful at dull parties, and violet blood. She pushed the last memory away, buried it deep. She wasn’t fast enough to stop the burn of tears and she rubbed at her eyes quickly. 

“I’m sorry.” He shifted again in his chair. 

“Go sleep.” Parjii rose and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the smooth slide of metal under her fingers. She added  _ care _ in tail-sign without thinking. “I do steer for a time.”

She could see Defender struggling with the idea before nodding. “I’ll have a comm link on me, call if there’s  _ any _ problem.”

“Yes,” she told him, sitting in the pilot seat as he left it. She took the  _ Crest’ _ s stick with much more confidence, her eyes falling to the heading and correcting slightly. 

“Thank you.” The soft gratitude in his voice made her smile. 

Silence fell over her, and she relaxed into the peace of flying. She felt safe in Defender’s home; safe in a way that she’d never known until recently. She hadn’t truly understood that word until Defender had nearly pushed over a bulkhead than touch her. Even under the influence of Tryala dust, he’d protected her, even from himself.

Once, she believed that she’d been born to die a slave. Now, she had a chance to be something else, someone  _ free _ . Defender had given that to her hope to be more than others had chosen for her. 

He slept four hours, coming back when they only had an hour left to Tatooine. As they changed seats, he said, “You now look like the one needing sleep.”

Parjii shrugged. “I stay here if need.”

“No, go rest,” he said, glancing up at her. After a moment, he gently insisted, “Go.”

In the space she shared with the child, Parjii listened to him snore blissfully. The tiny sounds relaxed her immensely but Defender’s questions had stirred old memories, and tears rolled down her face after she’d been in her cot for a while.

Quietly, she rose and moved her bed over to the child’s. When she laid down again, she put her hand softly on the his. His breathing hitched and she waited for him to wake. Instead, his breathing deepened again, and her fingers curved around the little hand.  _ You may not be mine, _ she promised him quietly, just as she’d told him every day,  _ but I won’t let anyone hurt you _ . Nima’s ghost hovered nearby as she felt sleep draw her down, but for the first time, she felt no guilt over promising Thakhid what she’d failed Nima.

She woke with a jerk and a feeling that something was wrong. Thakhid’s bed was empty. The ship felt warm, and the soft hum of the climate systems working the only sound. The engines were still, the vibrations they created throughout the ship silent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: references to slavery, forced nudity, implied sexual violence. 
> 
> If you liked Toro Calican, I apologize in advance.

Alarmed, Parjii sat up and hurried to the ramp. It stood open, and she could hear a woman’s voice, weedling and soft. “You like those bones, don’t ya? I’m going to charge him double just for how much you like it.”

Parjii stepped down the ramp; she saw they were in a port, but most of her attention was on the woman feeding Thakhid in the small office opposite the  _ Crest _ . When the child saw her, he pointed and held out his arms for her, and Parjii took him, gladly. Her heart still pounding, she glared at the woman. “Who you?”

“Calm down, sweetie. I was just watching the little one there,” the woman said, rising and handing Parjii the bowl. Even with her shock of curly hair, she was still shorter than Parjii. “You supposed to be watching him?”

“I sleep,” Parjii admitted, guilt flooding her, which her lekku telegraphed. She took the broth, and Thakhid immediately started wiggling, doubling over in her arms to grab for it. She let him grab the edge and drag his mouth to it, but kept a firm grip as he started to drink.

“No worries! Peli’s always glad to fill in.” Her host eyed her critically. “Lemme guess -- one of Jabba’s old dancers?”

Confused, Parjii shook her head. “No. Who Jabba?”

“The Hutt that used to rule here. Got killed by a bounty and his friends. You still speak Huttese better, dontcha?” Peli asked, switching to that language. 

“Yes, I do,” Parjii admitted, feeling relieved. “Where is F-- Mando?”

“Getting credits to pay me, hopefully,” Peli said. “Otherwise, you better get used to being here.” She picked up a tool box and headed to the  _ Crest _ , and Parjii followed for lack of anything better to do. 

“Did he say anything to you?” Parjii asked nervously. “About when he’d return?”

“A man? Communicate? Especially those stoic armor-wearing types?” She shook her head as she removed a panel. “He’s either hotter than sin or uglier than a Hutt under all that metal, and no telling until you peel it open. Though I’m guessing you could tell me,” she added with a leer at Parjii. The Twi’lek shook her head as her head-tails spoke of  _ discomfort _ , and Peli shrugged. “Suit yourself, just a little girl talk. And nope, didn’t say a thing except that he was going to look for work.”

“What are you doing to the  _ Crest _ ?” Parjii asked. 

“Repairing it. You took a lot of damage in that firefight,” Peli said, sticking her head inside the opening and peering around. “Ah, good, that’s barely fused. But it’s going to take me forever, since he won’t let my droids work on it.”

There was an opening, and Parjii took it. As her lekku signaled her eagerness, she said, “I’ll assist you  _ if _ you lower the final bill.”

Peli turned and stared at her. “Now, what does a pretty thing like you know about fixing starships?”

“Not much but I follow directions and learn quickly,” Parjii said. 

“I bet your husband appreciates that,” Peli chuckled, but her gaze remained assessing. 

“He’s not my husband,” Parjii said patiently. She got this a lot, and part of her wished it were true just to stop the conversation. Admittedly, another part of her wanted for it to be true for different reasons.  _ Well, maybe not my husband _ , she mused,  _ but certainly something closer to that than our current stalemate.  _ He didn’t see her that way unless he was high on inhibition lowering drugs, and that was the way of things. Thakhid burbled softly and grabbed at her lekku. Smiling, she let him catch one for a moment, but when he started to pinch it, she pulled out his string of  _ kaina _ pearls as distraction. 

“Alright, fine. You can  _ assist _ me, but if you break anything, I’m charging the ship for it,” Peli said suddenly. “Better change clothing.”

Parjii did as she asked, plunking Thakhid on her cot long enough to shimmy into her overalls and grab a baby carrier. When she rejoined Peli, she tucked him inside the seat of the carrier and let him hang from her back. He played on happily with his favorite toy, content wherever she left him so long as he could keep sliding the balls of light back and forth.

Parjii had been sure she could help the woman, and hopefully learn a new skill or two. It quickly became apparent that Peli was more interested in her companionship than her skills; the woman talked and talked and talked endlessly. Parjii learned all the gossip about the other port managers in Mos Eisley. She asked Parjii a few probing questions, but providing evasive, dull answers soon got Peli back onto the subject of Mos Eisley drama.

They had just finished the fuel line patch when Thakhid gave an excited squeal. Only one thing drew that sound out of him, and Parjii looked over her shoulder as Defender approached them. “What’s going on?” he asked gruffly. 

“Well, your, eh, friend and I were just finishing up on your ship,” Peli said quickly, but Defender’s helmet didn’t turn toward her. It remained on Parjii, and her breath caught with sudden worry that she’d angered him. She felt her face heat up as her head-tails said  _ guilt _ and  _ apology _ .

“I helping her,” Parjii said, wincing at how  _ stupid _ she sounded when speaking Basic. Thakhid mewled angrily and she took off the carrier, settling him in her arms so he could watch his father.

“I thought you’d still be sleeping.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I have some complications I need to talk to you about,” Peli interrupted. 

Defender finally looked at her. “Parjii can deal with it,” he said, and the Twi’lek felt her jaw drop.

“I can?” she gulped, just as Peli asked speculatively, “Can she?”

“If there’s something you can’t,” he said, his helmet swinging back to her, “then I’ll deal with it when I get back.” The gaze of his helmet dropped to Thakhid, and Parjii waited for him to take the child and hold him close. Instead, he left. 

“Mister, wait, you can’t--” Peli huffed and hurried after him. Parjii followed automatically. Outside the port, a human man waited with two speeder bikes. Hanging back by the wall with Peli and hugging Thakhid protectively, she watched Defender examine the bikes. The man glanced back at her and Peli; the latter he gave a single look, but his gaze lingered on Parjii. 

The fear crept in almost immediately; the terror that he’d see through her guise, name her a slave again, and take her back to Zygerria. She railed against it, arguing that she didn’t know this man and there was no way he’d know her, but it clung to her heart stubbornly. 

She couldn’t follow the two mens’ conversation about the bikes, her heart drumming too loudly to hear. Only when they sped away did she relax. Peli eyed her shrewdly. “Ya know that kid?”

“No,” Parjii answered.

“He’s trouble,” Peli replied, shaking her head. “C’mon, we have a ship to fix.”

They were done before nightfall, and as a gesture of goodwill, Parjii invited the other woman to dinner. It was strange and pleasant to sit at the small table and talk with an adult fluently. Though she sometimes probed Parjii a little too hard, she was overall pleasant company.

The suns fell under the horizon, and Defender didn’t return. Parjii grew more anxious as the night lengthened, and Thakhid picked up on her unease. Putting him down for bed turned into a fight; every time she thought she’d rocked him to sleep and tucked him in, those dark eyes opened and he dashed for the ramp. She’d closed it for the evening, so she caught him before he got too far, but he grew increasingly frustrated at the barrier. The final time he ran for it and got caught at the door, he threw a tantrum of screaming and crying. The effort finally wore him out, and Parjii gratefully laid him down in his bed.

In the blissful silence following a child’s tantrum, Parjii had nothing else to focus on other than Defender’s absence. The ship felt too quiet without him there; he’d been gone on jobs overnight before, but this one worried her. Peli’s grim words about the man with the speeder bikes taunted her as she tried to find her own rest. After a couple of hours of tossing, she finally slept.

“Hey.” The voice came with a nudge on her hip. “Wake up, Blue.”

Parjii blinked and looked first to Thakhid’s cot automatically; it was empty again and she followed the voice to its source. The man with the speeder bikes stood over her, Thakhid tucked in an arm and his blaster pointed at her. She froze, sleep driven away in a second by a rush of terror. “Where Mando?” she asked.

“He’ll be along,” the man said casually with a smile but his eyes were hard. “In the meantime, I need your help. And don’t get smart. I’d hate to have to hurt you in front of the little guy.” He glanced down at the kid. “Yes, Uncle Toro would hate to have to shoot the pretty lady in front of you, wouldn’t he?”

Her eyes flicked from his face to Thakhid and back up. “What want?” she asked tersely. Her lekku spoke of fear and distrust as she glared up at him.

“Strip.” Toro smirked a little as her expression shifted. “I just need to see you’re unarmed, sweetheart.”

Being naked wasn’t really an issue; she’d been barely dressed or naked in front of total strangers before. It hadn’t been her choice then, but being forced to do it again after weeks of freedom chafed particularly hard. The old dress she used as a nightshirt slipped off her head easily. She dropped it on the floor, raised her arms, and turned in a circle. 

“Damn,” he said softly. “I see why he keeps you around.”

She grabbed her dress and pulled it back on, and he didn’t stop her. “Now, I need you to show me where he keeps all his weapons.” 

Helpless fury choked her, but she managed to say, “Locker by head, but keep lock.”

“Where’s the key?” he asked, waving for her to lead the way. 

She walked to it and stopped. “He have.”

“I see the trust runs deep between you.” He stared at her. “What are you, his krifftoy?”

“Friend,” she said, her voice cracking a little.

“I really don’t think so,” he said, his smile turning hard. “Don’t lie to me again.” Thakhid squirmed and burbled loudly. Their kidnapper frowned. “What’s it want?”

“He’s hungry,” Parjii said, holding out her hands. “I feed.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he said, handing the kid over. “You do all that kid-care stuff.”

With Thakhid in her arms, she could be calmer and think. She went to the kitchen, aware that Toro was following. In the doorway, she paused when she saw Peli sitting stiffly at the small table, her expression afraid and her hands in restraints. “Morning,” Parjii said, striving for calm.

“I’m sorry. He caught me sleeping,” Peli said in Huttese.

“Me, too,” Parjii answered. Swallowing, she said, “He’s waiting for-” She cut herself off before she said his name.

“Don’t censor yourselves for me, ladies,” the man said in Huttese, pulling the second chair far enough away from Peli and the table that he could sit. “I don’t mind you talking, if it keeps things simple.”

Settling the child in the crook of her arm, she pulled out the ingredients for gruel. “Don’t worry,” she murmured to the baby in Twileki, “we’re just making you breakfast and waiting until Daddy comes and rescues us.”

“What are you saying to him?” he asked in Basic.

“Just gentle words, keep calm,” Parjii said quickly, her lekku shouting her alarm and fear. “You hungry?”

“No thanks,” he said. “I’d rather not give you a chance to poison me.”

“No poison.” She folded the grains into the milk and started the heat. “Peli? You hungry?”

“Thank you, sweetie, but I don’t think I could eat,” Peli replied quietly, a tremor in her voice.

“I’m not going to hurt either of you if you do what I say,” Toro said. “There’s no benefit to it.”

Silence fell, broken only by Thakhid’s soft noises. Parjii kept him in her arms despite the extra effort it caused while making breakfast. When the grains were soft, she added a handful of berries, eliciting an eager cry from the child. “Soon,” she told him, turning to get a bowl.

The man stood right behind her, smirking at her start of fright. “I have her figured out,” he said, pointing to Peli, “but not you. What’s your name?” 

“Parjii.”

“Toro Callican, soon to be a member of the Bounty Guild.” He held out his hand and she took it. She barely resisted the urge to pull away when he kissed her knuckles. “Parjii isn’t a Twi’lek name. It’s not soft enough.”

“It my name,” she insisted, pulling her fingers free. Sildling around him, she got a bowl and spoon for the child. Toro still hadn’t moved, so she had to move close to him to ladle out the food. He didn’t give her any space, and her skin crawled at the proximity.

Taking the chair he’d vacated, she fed Thakhid. Toro watched her, leaning against a wall. His causal ease inside her home had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to bury her anger. The first thing she’d learned to do at the school was lie with her tongue; the second was to lie with her body. At least she’d had the freedom to speak with her head-tails. It wasn’t hard to fall back into the old habits -- or to carry on as if nothing was wrong. 

She didn’t think that Toro noticed, but Thakhid had. He didn’t lunge for the bowl, or try to steal berries; he sat quietly on her lap and ate, his large eyes on her face.  _ You know, _ she thought sadly, eager to distract from the armed invader in their home.  _ You know what it’s like to be small and quiet so they don’t see you. _ Wiping his face clean, she gave him a little hug. She draped a lekku over his shoulder and he wrapped both hands around it but didn’t squeeze.

“You’re very good with him,” Toro said in Huttese. When she didn’t respond, he pressed, “Where you trained as a child caregiver?” 

“No,” she said softly. “I just like him.”

“Is that why you travel with Mando?” Toro asked.

“Yes.”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Not very talkative, are you?”

“I speak when I have something to say,” she answered, her lips falling into the familiar shape of The Smile. Not seductive, not disrespectful, nothing but a pleasant curve of the lips.  _ You haven’t had to do this around Defender for weeks _ , her brain noted, and she felt tears threaten to tear down her mask. 

“Right.” Toro stared at her for a moment. “Give the Asset to Peli.”

Parjii bristled. “His name is Thakhid.”

“That Kid?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “Very, uh, inventive. Give it to Peli and come here.”

Peli’s soft gasp only accentuated the jolt of fear that raced through Parjii. There was no point in telling Toro no, so she wiped her features clear of emotion and rose from her seat. She gave the baby to Peli, stroking his head before releasing him -- though which of them she was comforting, she wasn’t sure. Peli looked terrified and she folded her hands over the child as if she could protect him with her skin and bone. 

Toro locked eyes with her, watching her closely as he pulled off his glove and reached for her face. Parjii held still as he cupped her cheek, his rough, calloused skin raising goose pimples of sensation on her. His thumb slid over her lips, and she could smell sweat and skin-warmed leather. 

He pushed his thumb between her lips and she was glad she hadn’t eaten when her stomach twisted at the invasion. Pinching her lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, he slid the digit from one side to the other. Parjii’s heart sank as she realized what he was looking for but she didn’t look away from him. 

She wasn’t a slave. She was free.

This thumb stopped on the mark and he tugged her lip down to reveal the symbol. “I’m surprised you didn’t have this removed,” Toro said, smiling. “You’re a Zygerrian slave. This job just gets more and more lucrative. Heat or freeze?” 

“Freeze,” she said around his finger as he peered more closely at the brand.

“Must have hurt,” he said conversationally. “I don’t recognize the house. Who’s your owner?”

She tipped her head back and he let go. “I have no owner,” Parjii stated proudly. 

Toro tsked softly. “Not according to that brand,” he said. “Mando really should have gotten that removed.” She tried to hold her expression blank but he laughed. “You never told him, did you? Can’t say I blame you. The reward for turning you back in will keep this ship running for a while.” He waved her away and pulled on his glove. “Now I need to decide what to do with you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on Tumblr @deprough. I post nearly daily excerpts of my current writing, except on Fridays when I'm hiding from Mandalorian spoilers until I can see the new episode. Sometimes I talk about crochet, or writing, or whatever takes my fancy. I'd love to see you there.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. I've said I'm nervous about this one because this is the story that really changes the dynamics between these two. So I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> TW: sexual violence in the first part of the chapter; to skip it, scroll down to the first section skip, marked thusly: ~ * ~ * ~

Parjii sat back down after collecting Thakhid from Peli. The four settled into an uneasy silence, broken only by the child’s occasional soft noises. Those noises gradually got louder, and finally Toro asked, “What’s wrong with it?”

“He’s bored,” Parjii answered. 

Toro glanced over the toy pile, selected one at random, and tossed it to her. “There. Problem solved.”

The hours dragged on. Parjii tried to keep Thakhid focused on playing, but she had no doubts that the little one had picked up on the tension in the air. He played a little, but it was fitfull and subdued. He spent a lot of time leaning against her, quietly chewing on the toy and watching the room. 

Toro allowed her to make lunch; Peli ate a little, and Parjii managed a bite. The Kid ate the spicy meat on the flatbread readily, his dark eyes on her. Toro dug out a ration and nibbled at it slowly.

“It take naps?” Toro asked, breaking the terse silence. 

“Most days,” Parjii answered. “He’s a little wound up today.” She bit back a caustic remark about the cause of that tension.

“Do I need to turn down the lights?” he asked, taking a bite of his formed food-bar. 

“No,” she said, determined not to do anything that might let him feel he could claim ownership over the _Crest_. She rocked Thakhid in her arms, draping a towel over her shoulder to block the light from overhead. He resisted, but she rocked and sang soft lullabies. They should have been comforting to her, but the tension mixing with the childcare set her on edge. When she closed her eyes, it was far too easy to imagine that Nima was in her arms. It was too easy to remember how she died. 

Finally, she felt him relax completely, and she risked a look. He was sleeping, his lips moving with each breath. Relieved, she stopped her song, reaching for a drink. 

“You’re very good at that,” Toro said softly. His expression was unreadable. “Give it to Peli.”

Fear thrummed through her gut. “It might wake him up.” 

“Not as quickly as me putting a blaster bolt in you,” he said, his voice almost conversational. 

Rising on shaking knees, she turned to Peli. The other woman looked on the verge of tears, and Parjii stopped looking at her face. Instead, she looked down at Thakhid. _If this is the last time,_ she thought to him, keeping the light off his face, _please never doubt I love you._ She kissed him gently and passed him to Peli.

“What do you want with her?” Peli’s voice shook, but she still spoke, and Parjii felt gratitude to her for it. As she settled the towel on Peli’s shoulder as a light block, she gave her a little squeeze. _Thank you_ , her lekku said clearly, and also: _it’s okay._

Toro didn’t answer; he just waved Parjii out of the kitchen. She went, feeling her gorge rise with each step. _It’s happening again._

Fear had her shaking, but anger snuck in, sliding through the terror and saturating her vision with red. It shouldn’t be happening again. She was on the _Crest_ . She’d earned her freedom through hard work and hunger and cleverness. She had Defender guarding her, and she wouldn’t _let_ it happen again.

Toro stopped in front of Defender’s bunk and turned to her, reaching for her. She took a step back to avoid him. “You don’t want to do that,” he said in Huttese. “You’ll make me mad.”

“I don’t care,” she told him. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

He grabbed her arm, quicker than anyone she’d ever known. “It doesn’t matter what you want,” he growled, dragging her against him. “You’re mine.”

“Never!” Snarling, she jerked back from him, twisting against his grip on her. 

He grabbed her with both hands and shoved her into the bunk. She scrambled into the far end of it, as far from him as she could get. “You can play hard to get,” he told her. “It won’t change a thing.” When she didn’t move, he shrugged and hopped up into the bunk. “You’re just making this more fun for me, you know that.”

Parjii pushed herself back hard against the wall, glaring at him, gathering her strength. He was bigger and stronger, and he knew how to fight. She knew he was probably right, but she wouldn’t relent. If there was any chance she could stop him, she’d take it. 

He closed in slowly, hands open, his boots stomping all over Defender’s bed. Parjii held herself in check until he grabbed her; at his touch, she lashed out, slapping and striking him relentlessly. When he managed to grab both her wrists, she started kicking. He pinned her against the wall, his lips catching hers. 

She bit him as hard as she could, tasting the coppery tang of human blood immediately. He howled and jerked back, wrenching his lip from her teeth. She spat his blood back on him, missing his face but scoring the top of his shirt. 

The fist in her gut knocked her to her knees. For a long moment, the entire world was agony. When she felt the hand on her leg, she wrenched herself out of the daze and shoved herself off the wall as hard as she could. The motion caught him off-guard and he fell with her on top of him. One of her legs was between his and she brought her knee into his groin with all her strength. 

Toro made a grunt like a tea kettle wheezing, and she scrambled over him, crawling for the door. She tripped over him and tumbled against it, her fingers fumbling for the latch. 

He grabbed her right lekku, squeezing mercilessly, and her muscles locked. “Schullta!” he snarled, his voice higher than normal. Clamping a hand on her neck, he slammed her facedown on the bed. Her lekku still hurt but she could move again. Clawing at the bedding, she tried to wiggle away.

That wiggling turned to thrashing when she heard the hiss of his belt sliding out of the loops. His hand remained like iron on her neck, no matter how she struggled. She’d made six inches of headway toward the back wall again when he pinned her thighs to the bed with his knee. 

The first hit from the belt shocked her so much she didn’t even cry out, but the second blow dragged a yelp out of her. He didn’t stop with those two strikes; he kept hitting her over and over, leaving lines of fire across her back. 

It seemed that he would never stop his attack, but he did. Parjii didn’t know, as she’d fallen unconscious some time ago. 

~ * ~ * ~

“Parjii!” 

Someone shouted for her, and they were being far too insistent. Arms wrapped under her knees and shoulders, moving her and she protested the shift in a gentle wheeze. 

“No, stay out there. Don’t bring The Kid in.” _Defender_. That was his voice. “Take some of those credits and get more bacta spray.”

She opened her eyes, finding the familiar lines of his helmet looking out the open ramp of the _Crest_ . _Why were they on the floor?_ she wondered, then decided it didn’t matter. He had an arm under her shoulders, supporting her head against his silver chestplate. 

He was here, and he’d save them. A knot of tension in her gut eased and she reached for his face. Her back burned at the movement but she determinedly ran her hand across the smooth plane of his helmet. 

His visor dropped to her, and she said, “You here.” Relaxing, she started to fall into the comfort of oblivion. 

Defender shook her and the muscles of her back screamed a protest. “No!” he barked. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Thakhid?” She wasn’t truly worried about the child; if Defender was here, the baby was safe. 

“He’s fine.” Defender told her. “I am going to lay you down and get pain meds, but you have to stay awake for that. Do you understand?”

“ _Ka,_ ” she murmured, her eyelids trying to drag themselves closed.

“I _mean_ it!” he growled. “I’m going to turn you onto your stomach but I have to know that you’re going to stay conscious.” 

“Okee,” she agreed.

“Promise me.” His voice had gone soft. “For The Kid, for me. Promise you’ll be here when I get back.”

“What promise?” she asked, frowning a little.

He made an irritated sound. “It means if you close your eyes, you’ve lied to me. To The Kid. It means you’ll be an oathbreaker. Victors don’t break promises.”

“Okee,” she sighed. He moved her gently onto her stomach and left. Keeping her eyes open was hard. She wanted to drift away where it didn’t hurt, but she wouldn’t lie to him, or to Thakhid. 

“Still awake?” he asked, kneeling next to her. Their medkit was in his hands, along with a new bottle of bacta spray. 

She nodded. “No lie,” she said, watching him load the injector.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I’m starting with a wide spectrum antibiotic. You’re probably going to want to sleep, but I need you to stay with me until I get the bacta spray applied. I’m going to have to cut this dress off of you, too.” 

“Toro?” she asked, half-afraid of the answer.

“Dead,” he said, pressing the hypo to her neck. She grunted at the sting. For a long moment, the room was filled with the periodic hiss of the bacta spray. 

“Tired,” she murmured.

“Don’t,” he growled. “Stay with me.” 

“Where you from?” she asked. 

“Navarro,” he told her. 

“Tell me,” she said softly. “Sleepy.”

He sighed. “I was born on Aq Ventia. My parents died in a Separist attack. The Mandalorians took me in. I’m about to pull the dress off your back. It might hurt, some of this blood is dried.”

“Why you say Navarro?” she asked, hissing a little as clotted blood pulled at her skin. 

“After training in the Fighting Corps,” Defender continued, “I joined the bounty hunter’s guild. They are located on Navarro, so I joined the Mandalorian covert there.”

She frowned. “Why not work for them now?”

There was a long silence, and she turned her head to look at him. His gaze was focused on her back, and he used the bacta spray again. This time, she felt the cool liquid settle on her skin, pushing away some of the pain. “I betrayed them.” His voice held little inflection, pushed forcibly flat. “I broke the rules.”

“How?”

“Ask me something else,” he said. “I’m going to touch your lekku.”

“Why take Creed?” She appreciated the warning; a moment after he gave it, the right lekku hurt so badly she felt dizzy for a moment. Toro had grabbed it; he must have left a bruise. Tentatively, she flexed them; one hurt but moved, and the other didn’t. She’d have to keep an eye on it as it healed, to be sure it did so correctly.

His voice was lighter as the spray hissed again and she felt the cold on her lekku this time. He said, “The Mandalorians saved me. The droids had killed my parents, and were going to kill me. They literally saved my life, and they were all I had. They became my family. Becoming a Mandalorian -- I didn’t need to think about it. It was what I wanted since I learned about the Creed.” He straightened and said, “Okay, that’s done. I’m going to bandage you and get you to your bed, then give you painkillers and let you sleep.” 

Covering her wounds didn’t take long; he’d had practice at it. He got her to her feet and held her arm as she shuffled toward the cargo bay. She’d known that he could be gentle but she hadn’t seen him be patient yet. She should have guessed; he was a hunter. He didn’t hurry her, and when she stopped because it hurt so much, he waited until she started moving again. 

He helped her lie down in the cot, literally leaning her on his arms and lowering her onto the bed. He covered her with a blanket, then leaned in and administered the hypo. The cessation of pain proved the best sleep aid in the world, and she let go of consciousness gratefully.

~ * ~ * ~

When she woke up, she found Thakhid in his bed, snoring softly, and Defender sitting against the wall on the other side. “F- Mando?” she asked, confused. 

“Morning,” he replied, turning his helmet to look at her. 

“What you doing?” she asked.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asked. She blinked and he asked, “Are you hungry?”

She was, but she hurt a lot, too. “I can try fix it.”

He tilted his head at her. “Are you serious?”

His harsh tone combined with the pain to draw tears to her eyes. “I, uh, _ka_?”

“Parjii, you’re staying in bed.” He got up and stalked out of the room. 

She slumped into her cot. She’d worked so hard to be indispensable, to make him want to keep her around, and now she couldn’t even stand. Closing her eyes, she resolved that she just needed to heal as fast as possible. Experimentally, she twitched her lekku. When both moved, she breathed a sigh of relief. That was a good sign.

“Here.” 

She looked up to see Defender offering her a ration. “It’s all that I’m bringing out of the kitchen,” he said gruffly. 

“Thank you,” she replied and broke off a piece, eating slowly. She didn’t really want to, but she had to heal, before--

“Parjii, this can’t happen again.” He sounded angry and panic surged through her. “I have to know that The Kid is safe if I leave the ship.”

She opened her mouth but could say nothing. He was right; she couldn’t protect Thakhid or herself. He hadn’t stopped talking, but through her fear, she couldn’t follow all of it. Something about a school, and being safe. 

One thing was clear -- Defender was leaving her there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on Tumblr @deprough, where I post daily about the Mandalorian, crocheting, or whatever I'm talking about today. I have daily accountability posts where I post excerpts of my day's work, which motivates me. I'd love to see you there!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a kudo or a comment about the story -- I love feedback, even criticism. And you can follow me on Tumblr @deprough where I talk about my life, my crocheting, and my writing. I also post nearly daily with excerpts of my daily writing progress as an accountability measure. I'd love to chat with you over there.


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